French authorities have seized a cargo ship near the English Channel port of Boulogne sur Mer. That vessel is owned by a Russian bank whose CEO is the son of his country's former chief intelligence officer and served as prime minister. At the other end of the country, les douaniers grabbed a Russian oligarch's superyacht parked for repair in a Mediterranean port. The country's security officials believe that the boat's owner, as well as those of other vessels docked in the area, were preparing to flee to the Maldives, which doesn't have an extradition treaty with the US or most European countries.
In New York and London, officials exploring ways to take the co-ops, condos and other real estate owned by Putain-, I mean Putin-connected billionaires in those cities. And measures have been taken to keep those uber-rich Russians from accessing their bank accounts, stock holdings and other assets.
Such moves make headlines. So does talk about sanctions, though the actual and possible results of them aren't as widely known. One reason is that those sanctions, which devalue the ruble and prevent Russian exports of everything from natural gas to vodka, affect everyday people who are mostly invisible to anyone outside of their communities and country.
Among those everyday Russians is Dmitry Nechaev. You probably haven't heard of him, but you may have seen his work: He custom-builds titanium frames under the name Triton. Perhaps not surprisingly, most of his sales are to cyclists outside of his home country. But, during the past twelve weeks, he says, he hasn't received a single foreign order.
Although the sanctions--which prevent him from receiving payments via PayPal, among other things-- would explain the past couple of weeks, his sales drought began earlier, when rumors trickled out of Russia. Even if he'd had orders, he wouldn't have been able to build frames because, like his frame-building peers in the US and other countries, he depends on foreign suppliers. Paragon Machine Works, a frame-part supplier, could not ship to Nechaev and other Russian builders and manufacturers because Federal Express and DHL stopped shipping to Russia.
So Nechaev, who emphatically condemns the Russian invasion of the Ukraine (and is of Ukranian and Jewish heritage via his mother) realized that he could no longer work from his Sochi shop. Because he holds an Israeli as well as a Russian passport, he fled to Tel Aviv last week. He has bought a car to pick up fellow Russian refugees from the airport and plans to leave a note at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.
He plans to continue building his bikes, but he doesn't know where just yet. It's difficult not to believe he's thinking of the USA. In the meantime, he's asking for support from the industry. Specifically, he appealed to the fact that he, like them and nearly everyone else, opposes the invasion and expressed hope that suppliers and customers in the US and other countries will continue working with him.
